


Hands

by BluSkates



Series: Six Kinds of Love is a fantastic read [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, M/M, Slavery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 21:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14364516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluSkates/pseuds/BluSkates
Summary: Another gift fic for Frilly_Axolot.  A three POV story using hands as a motif...what can I say? I'm a sucker for a motif!  And hands freak me out.  Yuuri and Phichit talk about Phichit's inability to get Christophe's hands on him, while Viktor pines for Yuuri's hands on him.  However, it turns dark as Isaac mourns his inability to get his hands on Yuuri but satisfies himself with a new victim. There's NOTHING GRAPHIC in this.  A pillow fight.





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frilly_Axolotl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frilly_Axolotl/gifts).



> Thank you to Den for late night, last minute editing! Thank you to Frilly for letting me write little side fics of this truly wonderful story.

Hands moved too quickly for Yuuri.  Phichit’s hands flew about his body.  Picking up and cooing over his hamsters, pulling at the blankets that lay all over the family room, making delicious food for the family.  But where they were their fastest...their deadliest was right now. Yuuri knew that he was in serious trouble, the little Thai man had him cornered and with only one flick of his hands he would have him.

 

“Ha, Katsuki, prepare to die!”  Phichit sat cross-legged on the couch watching as the low res figure lashed out and with a final blow destroyed all of the Japanese man’s hope of walking out the victor.

 

The gorey, and incredibly cheesy, graphic rose up announcing Yuuri’s defeat.  The man smiled and tossed the game controller onto the table in front of them.  “Phi, you have kicked my ass all morning. You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

 

Phichit flinched a little and shrugged.  “Nothing, can’t a man take out his frustration by beating the crap out of another man via 64 bit sega system without anyone getting all Freudian on him?”

 

Yuuri leveled a gaze at Phichit, “Not when that man utters statements like that.  Okay, step away from the game.” He guided Phichit face him, the hands dropped the controller and picked up a familiar pillow, hugging it to his chest.  “First, what’s the hell with this system?”

 

Phichit chuckled, with all of Viktor’s wealth...and it was a LOT, they were playing Street Fighter on what must have been an original Sega system.  “I dunno, I think he just has a hard time letting go of stuff. He’s a bit of a collector. He finds broken shit and then hangs onto it for dear life…”  Phichit’s eyes went wide as he realized what he just said then dropped to the floor.

 

Yuuri shifted silently for a moment. The unspoken truth of Viktor sat between them for a moment.

 

“Yuuri, I…”

 

“No, of course not.”  Yuuri cut him off quickly.   _ Just one more broken object for the attic. _  “So, what’s really eating you because proving you’re the top street fighter in the house while Yurio is gone is ridiculous.  Once he returns, your reign will end.”

 

Phichit smiled, grateful for the out.  “It’s Chris...he won’t...and I want to…”  He squirmed, hands moving to toy with the hem of his shirt.  “I’m not sure if you know we are...sort of a thing.”

 

Yuuri smiled and tried to keep it from evolving into a smirk.  “You two haven’t really hidden your affections from us.”

 

“Does everyone know?”  Phichit looked up from under dark lashes.

 

Yuuri sat back on the couch, bringing his legs up against back cushions and burying his toes in a blanket.  “I think Yurio has declared you to officially gross.”

 

Phichit’s face blushed, with the tip of his nose creating the deepest hue.  “It’s just that...we aren’t...moving forward.” His eyes narrowed, hoping to convey his meaning to Yuuri.

 

“But you are really free with touch, especially Chris.  He doesn’t strike me as one that wants to hide or bother with public display.”

 

“Yeah, that’s just it.”  Phichit blew out a frustrated breath, “He’s a sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

 

Yuuri pulled back a moment,  _ oh, that’s clever. _  “I think that’s a good insight.  Often people who are the most sexual are actually the least active.”

 

“Really?”  Phichit finally cracked a smile.   
  


“I have no idea, I’m quoting something from an American show called  _ Golden Girls. _ ”  Yuuri watched Phichit flop back into the couch, legs flying up into the air and landing solidly on his lap.

 

“YUURI!!!!”

 

Yuuri erupted into laughter.  “Okay, I’m sorry.” He caught one of Phichit’s hands and pulled the smaller man to sit up.  A gasp broke from Yuuri’s lips as he watched Phichit’s hand in his own.  _ Hands. _  A darkness pulled at Yuuri, something cold and dark behind was clawing at him.  He felt the world start tumbling around him.

 

_ Hands...large clammy hands… _

 

“Yuuri…”  Phichit kept his fingers still and moved his body slowly, righting himself to face Yuuri.

 

The Japanese man still held the hand, it was cool to his touch.  The fingers slender and beautiful. Not a scar, not a scrape. A small patch of freckles across the knuckles.  A tiny pink spot from where a bit of grease had caught him while cooking last night.

 

Yuuri felt his mind settle.  He gently let the hand go, watching Phichit place it on his own knee.   _ I can do this.  I can pull myself back. _

 

“Yuuri?”  Phichit sat still waiting to see Yuuri’s response, hoping the man would swim to the surface.

 

Yuuri breathed in deep, a small shudder to his exhale, “I’m okay.  Just...hands.”

 

Phichit looked down at his hand, pulling it back to his chest, but Yuuri reached out, taking the hand in his own again.

 

“No.  I...I want to get past these things.”

 

The smile from the Thai man could only be described as sunshine.  He moved his other hand to cover Yuuri’s fingers.

 

Yuuri looked at their hands, “But we were talking about your lack of a sex life?”

 

“Bitch!”  Yuuri erupted into laughed as Phichit launched into another temper tantrum.

  
  
  


 

Viktor had heard the laughter from the hall, walking to the door he watched the interaction of Yuuri and Phichit on the couch.  Yuuri’s laughter was magic. Something between music and chaos. It was like watching bubbles form in a milkshake. He was happy to see Yuuri gaining confidence, working through his problems.  While he was tempted to rush in and comfort him at the first sign of trouble, he followed Phichit’s lead and waited for Yuuri to pull himself through. And the man did.

 

Watching them return to their gossip Viktor turned back to the hall, Snowball rubbing against him then sauntering off to wherever it is cats go when they are not bothering with humans.  Viktor took himself to the conservatory. The room was chilly, he liked it because it called for blankets, pillows and cocoa, all things that he adored.

 

Taking his current book, he took the window seat, snuggling into the deep cushions and pillows, wrapping the blanket over his lap and feet.  He pulled the curtain closed, shutting himself off from the empty room and leaning back to gaze out the window at the low setting sun. He started reading, trying to focus...with no luck.

 

Makka padded into the room, sitting at Victor’s side and greeting him with a deep boof.  Viktor’s blue eyes sparkled at the welcome distraction. He reached out and scratched at the curls. The dog pulled back at the sound of approaching bare feet on the wood.

 

“Makka?  Are you in here girl?”  Yuuri’s voice sung out.

 

Viktor felt his cheeks burn at the thought of Yuuri finding him.

 

“You can’t escape Katsuki! That dog will not protect you!”  Phichit’s voice followed, both men were in the large open room.  Viktor could hear they were on the opposite end of the room from him.

 

Leaning forward he peeked out the divide in the curtains.  The two men were playing with Makka who had deserted him for them.

 

_ Traitor. _  Viktor smirked, the poodle loved the attention Yuuri lavished on her.  He had to admit he was jealous of the dog and not the man.

 

Phichit grabbed a pillow from one of the overstuffed chairs, “You know I can think of someone else that would love it if you paid a little attention to him.”  The Thai sang out in a teasing tone.

 

Yuuri snorted, “Yeah, right.”

 

Phichit, evidently not happy at being ignored for a dog, took the pillow to the back of Yuuri’s head, knocking the taller man over.  He then launched himself onto the older man tickling his ribs. Viktor smiled at the display until Yuuri’s shirt rode up, revealing his tummy...soft and little.  He licked his lips, inhaling quickly. Viktor gasped at his reaction. He covered his mouth with his hands and sat back, ducking back behind the curtain. He heard the two men laugh and move out of the room, Makka following in their wake.

 

The book was completely forgotten at this point.  Viktor breathed deeply, trying to calm himself.

 

_ He’s so beautiful. _

 

He considered himself.   _ I’m good looking...but I’m so awkward and childish. _

 

Viktor chewed his lips thinking of the life had led.  After the death of his brother and mother, his father locked him away in this house. Surrounded by guards and private tutors, too scared to go out into the world that took half his family from him.

 

Then, finally leaving the house to go to college.  All the way to Boston, Massachusetts...The States. He had hoped it would be a chance to meet people, become social...maybe date. But the bodyguards came with him.  And no one wanted to ask out the pretty boy whose father could kill them with a phone call.

 

So Viktor Nikiforov, sole heir to one of the wealthiest and deadliest families, lived an untouched life at twenty-seven.  Never having gone past light kissing with the one boyfriend brave enough to ask him out before hearing the gossip about his family.

 

Now he sat back thinking of Yuuri’s hands, firm and warm on his sides, pushing him back against a wall, running up his back…

 

Viktor snapped the curtains open.

 

_ Time for a jog. _

  
  
  


 

Isaac frowned.  That little slut was right there.  Close enough to wrap his hands around that slender throat, choke the life out of him.  Close enough to drag him into the bathroom and take him until he screamed his lungs out.  Right there under his hands. But then that brat Nikiforov was there. Like some kind of sentinel, glowering over him, claiming his little brood.

 

_ He can’t possibly be fucking all of them. _

 

The house was empty.  Matvei was at work, running numbers again.  Little rat, just running errands endlessly for Nikiforov and his father.  The house had nothing to entertain him. There were no playthings lying around the house.  Matvei hadn’t earned enough to buy him anything yet and this left Isaac with a constant pout.  Sex with his partner was out of the question as Isaac’s tastes had finally settled on the intensely sadistic.  He couldn’t even get hard thinking of the wimpy little number cruncher sitting at his desk, adding to another’s wealth.

 

Like the board housewife that he was Isaac poured himself a third glass of wine.  Listlessly roaming the townhouse, each room boring him more than the last, Isaac found his thoughts settling on the room upstairs.  The room where they kept the two of them.

 

He remembered the night he brought the two of them home.  The look of horror on the little blonde’s face was almost enough to make him cum.  The boy was sobbing in terror before he had even gotten started really fucking into Yuuri. The blood and tears mixed with himself painted that body.  All while the little blonde sat there sobbing so hard he had thought the boy would vomit.

 

_ God, I wish he had. _  The thought of watching the Japanese slut lap up the puke while he road him had Isaac’s pants growing tighter.   _ Fuck, I need to get off. _

 

He knew he wasn’t welcome back at any of the established brothels in town.  He had broken one of the whores there last time and found himself banned for life.  Matvei’s lecture about the bill was enough to send him into a fit. But there were the streetwalkers…

 

Grabbing his keys he headed out to the nastier parts of town.  He knew he could find something delicious there. The streets were growing darker as the sun was setting.  Matvei would be at work all night, which meant he had the house. Not that he had any qualms fucking the hell out of a whore within earshot of his husband.   _ Fucking twat couldn’t get it up anyway.  Doesn’t mean I’m dead from the dick down. _

 

As the lights died in the sky and the dim glow of weak electric bulbs bled out onto the streets, scrawny bodies moved from shadow to shadow, inviting offers.  Isaac watched the flocks, knowing what he was looking for, waiting for exactly the right one. Boys standing up too straight, having finally made peace with their lives held nothing for him.  There was no fun breaking in a body that had given up years ago. Girls with suggestive smiles on their faces walked by, covering their loathing with thinly veiled contempt and red lipstick.

 

He stood outside the car, waiting for just the right person.

 

There he was.  A small boy, long bobbed hair, stringy but still healthy.  The body was wasting away with hunger, a sure sign that this was the last resort.  He wore a short skirt, that he couldn’t stop tugging down over his thin thighs and high heeled shoes that he wobbled in.  None of the other whores had taken pity on him and helped him to learn what to wear, where to stand, who to avoid.

 

Isaac moved in for the kill.

 

“How about a warm meal, and a warmer bed for the night?”  He held out his hand.

 

The boy hesitated.  _ Good, nothing kills my mood more than eagerness. _  Like a caged animal the little eyes darted around, the eyes were hazel, not as green as the little blondes, but the hair was just as yellow…if it were cleaned.

 

“Uhm...I don’t know...I don’t know how to do this.”  The eyes glanced up, then fell to his feet.

 

Isaac smirked,  _ perfect. _  He took on an avuncular tone, “Okay, so you get the money upfront.  You tell me how much you want. Don’t barter, and don’t make a second offer.  If a john isn’t willing to pay what you ask, walk away.”

 

The boy looked up, taken completely by surprise at the frank advice.  “Oh. Thank you.” He shifted in the cheap shoes, almost losing balance.  “Would fifty be alright?”

 

_ This is too easy. _  “Is that an hour rate?  Because I’d like to offer more for the entire night?”

 

The boy blinked, Isaac for the first time noticed the long dark lashes, “Oh...all night?”  He looked around, hoping one of the older girls would step in...save him. “I don’t know.”

 

“Well, that’s fine.”  Isaac turned to go.  _ Three...two… _

 

“No.  I mean, all night would be fine.”  The boy stepped forward, following Isaac to the car.  He sat in the passenger seat.

 

“I think something to eat first.”  He reached over and turned the heat up, aiming the blowers at the boy’s tender body.  “Warm enough?”

 

The boy sighed at the feeling of the heat on his skin.  “Thank you.”

 

Isaac got take away from a diner, bringing it home and insisting the boy eat at the table prior to taking him upstairs.  “I’d like you to be comfortable.”

 

The boy sat in the chair, he didn’t like the way this man was watching him...but this was the first meal in three days.  He consumed it quickly, gulping air between breaths. Soon he was finished, expectant eyes went to Isaac’s face. Under the table the boy had kicked off the heavy heels he could barely walk in.  His toes were tracing the bone of the opposite ankle, a nervous habit he had developed in grade school when the others would gang up on him.

 

“What is your name?”  Isaac rose, taking the boy’s hand, leading him through the house, to the stairs leading to the second floor.

 

The boy found himself unable to lie, even though he was told to.  The only advice the woman gave before she pushed him out the shop and onto the street.  “Pyotr.”

 

They stopped at a door, Isaac opened it, revealing a small room.  There was a bed, nothing else in the room.

 

“Pyotr.  Do you work for anyone?  I mean, should you have checked in with a madam or pimp before agreeing to stay the night?”  Isaac’s voice was even. The boy wanted to relax, to believe that this man would be kind. But there was something behind it.  As a child, he remembered the other children cornering a cat, he cried thinking of the poor creature. Now he knew how it had felt.  That awful feeling, knowing that doom was upon you, there was no escape from the cruel hands that were closing in.

 

“No.”  His eyes locked on the bed, like a guillotine, as the large clammy hand pushed on his back, forcing him into the room.

 

Isaac smiled a cheshire cat grin.  “Good. One last question, Pyotr.”

 

The boy turned to see the door close behind the man. The large hand turning the lock, “How loudly can you scream?”

**Author's Note:**

> I do not care what game was released on what system. I'm old, leave me alone.


End file.
